


Good Enough

by Nopholom



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nopholom/pseuds/Nopholom
Summary: Goody was playing because he felt insecure, he felt he wasn’t enough somehow, he was trying to rekindle what they had with a song they shared only with one another





	

**Author's Note:**

> Billy/Goodnight #34 Good Enough
> 
> It's short, I'm slowly working my way back into writing though.
> 
> from this list: http://nopholom.tumblr.com/post/156259010066/ if you want to request anything from this list HMU on tumblr, anon is on so you don't need an account and it will show up here at some point

Billy didn't want for much in life, he had as much stability as one _could_ have living a life on the run; a reasonably reliable source of income, clothes to wear, and most nights, food. He also had a companion in Goodnight Robicheaux, the mere presence of the man made his life easier, people didn’t cross him as long as Goodnight was by his side, an imposing reputation held by an honourable, kind, strangely gentle man. Goodnight’s gentleness was so strange to Billy because he was kind in spite of the horrors he held so close to his chest, the ones he shared with Billy when things between them grew from trust and respect, to understanding and somehow, against all odds, _love_.

He watched as Goody sat down at the pianoforte, a hesitance to him that he didn’t hold when drunk or high, his fingers resting on the lower keys as he pressed softly at first, a test to see he had the right keys before he pressed harder and began to play some soft low notes; it was reminiscent of how they’d met, Billy had fought a dozen men until his knuckles were bloody and raw, and all the while the piano had played, a slow melodic tune which until the dust had settled, Billy hadn’t known was accompanied by a quiet song.

Goody wasn’t singing now though, because as he carefully picked out the low notes, Billy began to recognise it as an old folk song _his_ mother had taught him, long before he’d come to this land. He approached on silent feet, glancing cautiously around the bar in case someone had returned, but nobody had, all heading to bed to rest for their war practice in the morning. Goody didn’t even look up, just shifted aside on the stool and let Billy sit beside him, Billy hovered his fingers over keys at the other end, watching and listening to Goody play, joining when he was ready. He slowed his playing, Goody’s wasn’t a strong player even when he was sober, but he enjoyed it and so did Billy, the room gradually filled with the sound of their playing, confidence grew within the both of them and their keypresses brought louder notes. Billy glanced up to see Goody staring at him,

“No wonder you play so slow,” he jabbed playfully, nudging Goody’s elbow with his own,

“You wound me cher,” Goody uttered back, but even when he wasn’t looking his playing was perfectly fine. He gave a soft chuckle at Goody’s feigned dismay, letting his fingers flow over the keys, an intimate caress that trickled through the room as soft Asian music; they continued to play together, shoulders brushing and warm smiles on their faces, this was love-making, the sharing of something so profoundly intimate to both of them that it resonated too deeply, a way to profess their love to one another without uttering a word.

He knew Goody was playing because he felt insecure, he felt he wasn’t enough somehow, he was trying to rekindle what they had with a song they shared only with one another, so of course Billy would stop everything to play it with him, wished he could perform it when they were on the road, but he couldn’t, so he usually found other ways to assure Goody he was everything he needed.

He moved his hand to Goody’s thigh, still playing with the other as he gently squeezed and Goody’s fingers mashed a few wrong keys before regaining their place in the song, he looked at Goody and saw him glancing over their shoulders before his watery eyes met Billy’s for a second then turned down to his thigh.

“Billy…” he said, a soft warning despite them being alone; Billy stopped playing and moved his hand to cover the one on Goody’s thigh, “ _Billy_ …” he said again, casting another glance over his shoulder, worry etching deep into his features.

“Goody, look at me,” he pleaded and Goody let his fingers fall from the pianoforte keys, sighing and looking up at him, so hesitant and trying not to touch Billy’s hands as he settled his own in his lap, “I love you…” he said lowly and Goody looked _mortified_ , whipping his head around to see the saloon was still empty, but at this point Billy wouldn’t have cared. _“I_ _love you,_ ” he repeated, louder this time,

“Jesus Billy what are you _doing?”_ Goody asked, flinching when Billy took his hands, Billy kept one hand in Goody’s lap and guided the other up to his mouth, kissing Goody’s knuckles. “ _Billy_ ,” he hissed through his teeth,

“ _Goody_ …” he sighed, weary and exhausted, “Please,” he kissed Goody’s knuckles again and turned his hand palm up, resting his cheek in the worn palm, “I will never be ashamed of you, of us,” he assured quietly.

“Billy you’re gonna get us killed…” Goody whispered, still looking around, less frantic than before,

“We’re alone Goody, it’s just _us_ ,” he assured, and in a place like this, with the pianoforte fallen silent, he would hear if someone was intruding on their moment, he would know as soon as a door opened, even upstairs, or if someone was walking across aged wooden flooring.

“This is dangerous…” Goody murmured, but he didn’t quite pull his hand from Billy’s cheek,

“Isn’t everything?” he countered, “Every day is more dangerous than the last, we’re older, we’re slower, we’re closer to death,” Goody smiled at him then, unexpected to Billy,

“You sound like a poet,” he explained softly, and Billy shook his head, it hadn’t been his intent, but if that got through to Goody then he’d wax poetic until his dying breath.

“You bring out the worst in me,” Billy chuckled softly, turning his head to kiss Goody’s palm lightly, Goody’s smile broadened and he brushed calloused fingers against Billy’s skin, moving to lift his other hand, to cradle Billy’s face and draw him in nervously. Billy closed the gap for him, pressing their mouths together so gently and tenderly that Goody whimpered against him, sucking in a shaky breath before kissing him back. They parted, resting their foreheads together and looking into one another’s eyes, Goody looked close to tears, his insecurities all rising to the surface as he and Billy touched, “I love you…” Billy repeated and Goody let out a quiet gasp of breath.

“Thank you…” he uttered, “for staying with me,” this was it, the outpour would begin and Billy would gladly hold Goody through the whole thing, “I know I’m weak of heart… I _know_ I’m… not the man I ought to be…” Billy waited, wouldn’t utter a single word until Goody had said his piece, “You deserve better, someone who gives you everything you give _me_ ,” it made Billy’s heart ache to hear this all again, but he had his own insecurities, things he poured onto Goody when life just felt a little too much to bear alone, he needed Goody as much as Goody needed him, Goody just didn’t see that. “I wish I could be better…” he sighed finally, letting his hands fall to Billy’s shoulders and turning his head to the side, Billy moved his own hands to Goody’s cheeks, turning him to face him once more, kissing his lips so lightly that it was more breathing against one another than kissing.

“You’re more than enough,” Billy uttered against his lips, a quiet admission that he wished he could say more eloquently, Goody went to speak but Billy silenced him with a quick kiss, “No, you are, you’re beyond good enough, I need you,” he assured, slotting their mouths together in a longer kiss this time, indulging in this rare, almost public display of affection.


End file.
